Bobby
by Meowser Clancy
Summary: 911/Ghost Whisperer crossover. Bobby meets Melinda after the events of Dosed, and she helps him talk to his daughter Brooke.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: I was watched Dosed and it came to me. I know most of you haven't watched Ghost Whisperer, but I have never seen someone more in need of healing than Bobby so I decided to write a scene where he meets Melinda Gordon. You only need to know the basic premise of Ghost Whisperer to enjoy this. ~Meowser**

* * *

Melinda had hoped to enjoy her trip to California, even without Jim and Aiden, but it was like she was meeting a ghost around every corner. It didn't help that Los Angeles had experienced a major earthquake recently. She was avoiding looking at even living passersby, because she there were so many ghosts, it was getting hard to tell who was who.

It was giving her a real headache, and she wasn't feeling good at all. The sun was hot on her head, and she knew that big cities were always a challenge for her, but she didn't expect it to be this hard, having underestimated it. She hadn't gone to NYC for almost three years now, and she had brushed off how hard big cities were when Rick had asked her to come visit him. He was now teaching at UCLA, and wanted her help on a lecture.

Their relationship had slowly but surely been repaired since his abrupt departure nearly ten years ago, with a lot of hard work on both of their parts. She knew that things would never be the same, but she wanted to help him out, somehow repay him for the two years he'd spent being an invaluable resource and support for her, snark and all.

They were planning on meeting for dinner Thursday, the day she flew in, and the lecture was Friday morning. Melinda was walking to the restaurant from her hotel; they were close and she'd wanted to get to know the city. Rick had offered to give her a ride, but it was a gorgeous 80 degree day outside, and that contrasted with Grandview's miserable 40 degrees had made the decision to walk a slam dunk.

She was now regretting it, deeply.

She was so close to the restaurant, she could see the sign, but her head was spinning and she finally realized that she wasn't going to make it; the sun was too hot, and the ghosts were overwhelming her.

She collapsed on the pavement.

* * *

"Middle-aged female collapsed on the sidewalk," Bobby told his team as they neared the scene. "It could just be from the heat wave, it could be something more serious."

He'd been having a hard week since the LSD brownies incident, and even having Athena around being the solid support she was, hadn't been able to curb his longings for a high and to see his family again.

He'd been seeing Brooke around every corner, hearing her voice in his sleep.

He could never forgive himself.

The ambulance pulled up on scene, and their patient was already stirring awake. A good Samaritan was hovering, giving her water, and their patient was looking more than a little embarrassed to see a whole medical team approaching.

"I told them to cancel the 911 call, I'm fine," she apologized. "I'm sorry to waste your time," she told them as they got closer.

"It's not a waste of time, ma'am," Bobby answered. "We'd like to check you out, if you're willing."

The woman, a petite brunette, sighed, finally nodding. "Okay."

"I'm Bobby Nash, and this is my team," Bobby said, nodding at Hen and Chimney. "Can you tell us your name?"

"Melinda Gordon," she answered, as Hen began to strap on a blood pressure cuff.

"Melinda, are you a native Angelean?" Hen asked, as Chimney shone a light in Melinda's eyes.

"I'm not," she told them. "I'm here from New York to see an old friend of mine. Oh god. I'm late for dinner." She started to struggle to get up, but Chimney and Hen halted her.

"Whoa there, wait a minute," Chimney said, gently pushing her back down. "Let us check you out first. What happened here, Melinda?"

She sighed. "It really isn't a big deal. The sun was hot and I'm...not good in crowds either."

Bobby wondered why she'd paused as she had, but ignored it.

"I just fainted," she said.

"Do you faint frequently?" Hen wondered. "Because that can be an indicator of a lot of different, more serious conditions."

Melinda paused again, and Bobby now didn't ignore it. That should be an easy question to answer. "I have been known to faint when my...anxiety is high," she said slowly. "But it's manageable. I live in a small town and it's not a problem."

What an odd answer.

"Blood pressure is normal, and so are vital responses," Chimney told him. "She is responding normally, and she doesn't show signs of heatstroke."

"Ma'am, I'd really like to recommend further testing," Bobby began.

"I don't think that's necessary," Melinda replied. "And really, I'm late to dinner."

She tried to get up, and Hen and Chimney gave her a hand, effortlessly lifting the small woman to her feet. Bobby now noticed the heels on her feet, and the closely fitted black cocktail dress. Both of those could have easily contributed to her being lightheaded. Maybe he was overthinking this.

"Let us give you a ride to your destination then," Bobby said.

She laughed. "Ride in an ambulance? I haven't done that not as a passenger since my husband was a paramedic. Yes, I will take a ride. Thank you, Bobby Nash."

"Was?" Hen questioned.

"He finally went back to med school," Melinda replied, taking the arm that Bobby offered her. "He's the surgeon general at our hometown hospital now."

"That's incredible," Chimney replied.

"What brings you to LA?" Bobby wondered, giving her a hand up into the ambulance.

"I'm here visiting a friend of mine, Professor Rick Payne at UCLA," she answered.

Bobby got into the driver's seat and Hen and Chimney indicated that they were set in the back.

Melinda told him what restaurant she'd been heading to, and Bobby pulled out into traffic. It was just a couple blocks away.

"What's he a professor of?" Bobby wondered. Traffic was a gridlock, and he didn't feel good about using the emergency lights, so they'd just have to wait it out.

"Supernatural studies," Melinda told him.

"Like ghosts?" Bobby asked, his eyes meeting hers in the rearview mirror.

She hesitated. "Yeah."

* * *

There was a girl in the cab with them, and Melinda didn't know if she wanted to bring it up. They'd have a max of five minutes riding together, and she didn't want to seem like a crazy person, but the sadness hanging around Bobby Nash was almost palpable.

And the girl, who hadn't spoken much, now opened her mouth. "You can see me."

Melinda just nodded, pulling out her phone. "Sorry," she apologized to Bobby. "I have to text my professor friend."

She'd learned new tricks with smartphones, and had begun to force her supernatural visitors to interact with her through the technology. She'd learned new tricks, having grown tired of always being the crazy person talking to no one.

Who are you? She typed.

I'm his daughter, Brooke. Please. You have to help me talk to him. He still blames himself.

For what? Melinda wondered, meeting the girl's eyes.

For my death.

Melinda was suddenly engulfed in flames, choking, so hot, unable to breathe.

Aiden had helped her learn to control her visions more; she'd learned by watching her stronger son. She pulled herself back to the present, breathing hard.

"Are you okay?" Bobby asked. They were very near the restaurant.

"I am," Melinda replied. "Bobby, can I ask you a question?"

"Sure," he replied, his eyes darting to her before landing back on the road.

"Do you miss your daughter Brooke?"

* * *

Bobby felt his world tilt on its axis, and he had no idea how to answer the question posed by the woman sitting next to him.

They had just pulled up in front of the restaurant she'd been headed to, and there was a blond man waiting for them out front.

"Melinda, you haven't changed at all, always making a dramatic entrance," he said, his jaw dropping when Melinda climbed out of the ambulance. Bobby quietly agreed.

Melinda turned around, handing Bobby a business card. "I have to go, I've kept him waiting too long," she told him. "But please, give me a call when your shift is over if you want to talk."

"How do you know about my daughter?" Bobby asked, before she could slip away.

"I've talked to her," Melinda replied, and closed the ambulance door.

* * *

**A/N: Part 2 is coming :)**


	2. Chapter 2

"So why were you getting out of an ambulance?" Rick asked her, his tone light but his eyes worried.

"I'm fine," she said, walking inside with him as the ambulance pulled away.

"You said you were going to be late, but not why," he said. "Melinda."

"Rick," she replied. "I just had a little heat spell."

He raised an eyebrow, nodding to the host and she led them to their table.

Melinda sat in the chair he pulled out, needing some wine. "I may have collapsed," she admitted. "But it was ghost related."

"I knew I should have driven you," Rick groaned. "Jim will kill me."

"Jim isn't going to hear about this," she began. "Not until I'm safely back in Grandview, at any rate."

"He's going to hear about in about thirty seconds if you don't start explaining," Rick said. "Unless he's changed his cell number, I still have it, Melinda."

"Fine," she said, as he picked up his phone. "It's overwhelming. It's been awhile since I went to New York City, and I forgot what a challenge big cities are. A simple case of too many ghosts and mild heatstroke."

"Tomorrow I'm picking you up," he said. "And that's final. No cabs, no bus nonsense."

"Okay," she agreed, buttering a roll their waiter brought. "Thank you."

"Why were you talking to the paramedic?" Rick wondered. "That conversation went a little longer than thank you."

Melinda sighed, taking a bite of the soft bread. "Because," she began.

"You didn't," Rick said.

"I did," she told him. "I couldn't help it, his daughter was there and he was literally emanating sadness. He needs my help."

"Everyone does, but you can't help the whole world," Rick said. "You're flying back to New York tomorrow night, when are you going to have time to see him?"

Melinda paused, taking a sip of her wine before replying. "I told him to call me after his shift was over," she said. "So probably tonight."

"Melinda, you're speaking at my class at 11:00 a.m.," Rick warned.

"I've had many a sleepless night and lived to tell that tale," Melinda replied. "I won't do anything to jeopardize your class, Rick."

He nodded, looking at her. She paused, wondering why he was suddenly smiling. "What?" She questioned.

"I just didn't think we'd ever do this again," he admitted. "Fight about ghosts, hell, eat dinner together. Thank you for coming. I know this was hard for you."

She smiled at him in return, relaxing a little. This trip would turn out fine. "I'm glad I came," she said simply.

It was at that moment her cell phone rang; it had a Los Angeles area code.

Rick sighed. "Just get back before the entrees arrive," he warned, and she jumped from the table, answering the phone.

"It's Melinda."

* * *

Bobby had ducked into his office once back at the station, telling the team he had a headache and needed to finish paperwork. They only had a few hours left in their shift; they could manage without him. He stared at the business card for a long time, but finally couldn't stop himself. She was probably still at dinner, but he had to talk to her.

The phone rang once, twice. Bobby wondered if she'd pick up.

"It's Melinda," she said, her voice filling the line.

"Melinda, it's Bobby," he said. "Do you have a minute?"

"Just a couple," she replied. "I'm sorry for being so cryptic earlier, I usually take more time in instances like this, but Rick was waiting for me."

"I need you to explain what you meant by saying you'd spoken to my daughter," Bobby interrupted. "And how you knew her name."

He heard her exhale. "Bobby, like I said, I don't usually do it like this but we had limited time and I needed you to call me. I don't like doing this over the phone either, but I can meet you after your shift is over."

"You're from New York, it's already past 10 for you," Bobby said.

"Jet lag doesn't affect me," she replied.

"I need you to explain what you meant," he said. "Now."

A pause. "I can talk to the dead," she said. "See them, converse with them. My grandmother always called them earthbound spirits. Bobby, your daughter is here, on earth, and she hasn't crossed over yet. She's been trying to talk to you for quite some time now, but I can't have this conversation with you over the phone."

"Why would you do such a sick thing to me?" Bobby said, his voice raising. "What, did you fake the 911 call? Are you just mentally ill, or do you have it in for me? Did you know someone who died in the fire?"

"Bobby," Melinda said. "Calm down."

"I can't calm down," he shouted. "You fucking told me that my daughter is here and how dare you use her name."

"Bobby," Melinda said, voice calm and measured. "Brooke wants to talk to you about the candle. Remember, you put the cup over the candle and the liquid rises."

He felt his anger abate, shock taking over, but then he remembered that that was part of Taylor Kelly's interview with him. Maybe Melinda had been lying about the whole thing, maybe she was in cahoots with Taylor Kelly to make the LAFD look bad.

"Anyone who knows Taylor Kelly knows that story," he said, voice shaking.

"Taylor Kelly?" Now was the first time he heard confusion in her voice. "Bobby, I have no idea who that is. I understand your anger. This isn't an easy subject, but you can't keep yelling at me. If you want to talk, come after your shift to the Marriott hotel six blocks from La Gaviota where you dropped me off. I have to go now."

"Melinda," he said, but she'd hung up.

He wanted to throw his phone across the room, but he held back. He wasn't going to go.

And yet…

Four hours later, Bobby Nash strode into the lobby of the Marriott hotel off of West Olympic Blvd. He might regret this, but at least he'd get answers.

Melinda was waiting there, having changed into jeans and a warm sweater since he'd last seen her.

"You got my text," he said.

"I did," she replied. "Thank you for meeting me. Bobby, I know getting the news I gave you today was hard. But hear me out."

* * *

**A/N: Part 3 is coming but not as fast :) **


End file.
